


Meet Me in St. Louis

by Hawksquill



Category: Broad City (TV)
Genre: Coronavirus, Drugs, Female Friendship, Funny, Gen, Girl Power, Masturbation, Post-Canon, Vibrators, post-apocalyptic (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-19 12:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22978012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawksquill/pseuds/Hawksquill
Summary: Coronavirus is spreading and a two week quarantine looms.  It's not quite the apocalypse, but Abbi and Ilana decide that if they're going to die (or, much more likely, be trapped inside with nothing to do for two weeks), they'd much rather do it together in St. Louis, like they always promised.  They hunker down in an Airbnb armed with their go bags, canned food, vibrators, board games, and enough weed to last Willie Nelson and Snoop Dogg until the end of the world.
Relationships: Abbi Abrams & Ilana Wexler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Day Zero**

“Dude, okay, are we doing this?” 

“Flights for $50? A killer Airbnb with a _real_ bed and a bathtub for 20 fucking dollars a night? Bitch, of course we’re doing this!” Ilana’s face flickered in and out of frame as she contorted her surprisingly flexible body into an elaborate dance .

“I don’t know, man. I think my parents might actually kill me,” Abbi groaned, fidgeting with her credit card. 

“Only if the plague doesn’t kill you first, bi-yatch!”

“Ilana, don’t joke. What if we never see our parents again?” 

“Oh, come on, that was funny. Seriously, Ab, your parents can’t expect you to do a _two week_ quarantine without your best friend in the _whole wide world_. If they want you to die alone in fucking Pebble, ColorDORKO…”

“Okay, we’ve gone over this before, it’s _Boulder_ …”

“...wherever the fuck thousands of miles away from the MOST important person in your life, that’s on them. At least this way, we’ll die together.”

“Okay okay okay, I’m booking it!” Abbi’s fingers raced over the keyboard and she made a decisive click before she could change her mind. 

“Yas, bitch!”

“So what, Bobbi and Arthur are just totally chill with you doing this?” 

“Are you kidding? My mom is packing my suitcases full of canned food as we speak. She thinks, correctly I might add, that coronavirus was invented by the Trump administration to wipe out all the brown people and poor people and Jews and queer people crammed together in the big, germ-infested cities where nobody voted for him. I mean, what is New York if not a floating petri dish of minority germs? The Midwest is probably safer.” 

“But doesn’t St. Louis have like, a lot of black people?” 

“Abbi, that is _racist_.”

“What? I’m just saying, St. Louis is a big city and has a lot of black people, so like, if your mom thinks Trump wants to use the virus as some kind of ethnic cleansing…”

“Whatever, listen, I have to go. My flight leaves in like an hour.”

“Ilana, WHAT? Are you in Brooklyn or Long Island? I mean, either way, how are you going to get to the airport in time? Plus you’re supposed to give yourself, like, two hours even for domestic flights. A lot of people don’t know that, but it’s on all the airline websites…” 

“Puh-lease. This city is deserted. Apparently people didn’t get the memo that the quarantine doesn’t start until TOMORROW. Like, do people not know what day it is? We should appreciate the amazing technology of smartphones that can tell us what day it is while we still have them, am I right? Anyway, I had an entire subway car to myself this morning. I’ll get there in no time.”

“Okay, I guess. Meet you under the arch?”

“You bet, babe,” Ilana made a vaguely arched-shaped gesture with her cupped hands. 

“Or, wait, I actually don’t think the airport is that close to the arch. So…?” Abbi trailed off. 

“Oh. Right. And where’s our Airbnb again?”

“Let me look at the map...yeah, that’s nowhere near the arch, either. It’s actually closer to the airport than the arch.” The camera suddenly zoomed sharply in on Abbi’s forehead as she held her phone close to her face to squint at Google Maps. 

“We could get Lyfts?” Ilana suggested, eyes darting around the room as if already bored with the logistics of planning their glorious reunion. 

“What, to the arch? And then...back in the opposite direction to the Airbnb? I know we always said we’d meet under the arch, but maybe we should just meet at the airport?” 

“Yepyepyepyep that _definitely_ sounds easier.”

“Okay, see you at the airport I guess!”

“Abbi, wait!”

“What?”

“Don’t forget your go bag!” 

“Already got it, babe,” Abbi held up the backpack Ilana had given her on their last day in New York together. 

“Ugh, of course you do, ANGEL. Love ya!” Ilana hung up in a flurry of kisses. 

* * *

“AB! Ab, over here!” 

“Ilana! Oh my god, of course,” Abbi hugged her friend, gesturing to Ilana’s face mask, which she had bedazzled with rhinestones spelling out the word KWEEN. 

“I mean honestly,it’s the least I can do if the airlines are going to _violate_ my first amendment rights by _forcing_ me to wear a face mask before I board their plane, pandering to the totally false sense of security that masks provide.”

“Yeah, like just learn to wash your freaking hands, am I right?” Abbi took the handle of one of Ilana’s suitcases and led her through the deserted airport.

“But nooo, apparently that’s asking too much of America. We can’t wash our damn hands, and we’d rather trap ourselves inside for two weeks straight? Totally makes sense.” 

“So, dude, how many people were on your plane? There were a few rich people in first class who practically drank hand sanitizer any time one of the flight attendants came near them, but I think I was literally the only one in coach,” Abbi said. 

“Oh, I have no idea. I slept like a log the _entire_ flight, didn’t even need to pop a Xanax. Turns out the potential of a global super-pandemic soothes all my mental health issues. Go figure,” Ilana shrugged. 

“Huh. Maybe because everything else just seems insignificant in comparison?” Abbi suggested as they exited the airport into the deserted arrivals pickup area.

“Okay, let’s just get a Lyft. Do you think it’ll be _super_ expensive or _super_ cheap?” Abbi asked. 

“Mmm, my bet’s on cheap. Evil corporate overlords are desperate to squeeze any cent they can out of this crisis.”

“Wait, it says there’s a big surge price but it’s only like…$8? That can’t be right ,” Abbi refreshed the screen, waiting for the price to change. 

“HA, I always forget that _literally everything_ is cheaper outside of New York. Yet another reason this plan is brilliant,” Ilana cackled as a lone car pulled up the road and stopped in front of them. 

“Hi, are you...Tom?” Abbi read the name on her screen.

“Ab, this is literally the only car we’ve seen in this entire city, it has to be him,” Ilana said, pulling their suitcases towards the trunk. 

“Hey, do NOT touch the car,” Tom sprung out of the car, decked out in an old pair of scrubs, latex gloves, and two face masks directly on top of each other.

“Okay, okay, easy,” Ilana took a step back, “If you’re this paranoid, why are you driving a fucking Lyft the day before the quarantine starts?” 

“Please put these on,” he threw gloves and scrubs at them before returning to the driver’s side to get a bottle of Lysol, which he used to spray the handles of their suitcases and the rear door of the car. 

“Geez, okay…” The girls clambered into their gloves and scrubs, Ilana twisting her shirt up into a flattering crop top. 

“I have some complimentary water and phone chargers back there. Would you ladies like a complimentary mint?” The driver dug his gloved fingers into a bag of Lifesavers and popped a mint into his mouth. The girls shared a glance.

“Um...no...thanks?” Abbi said. 

“Suit yourselves,” he shrugged.

“Do you think he realizes that all the germs he’s been touching with those gloves all day are now in his mouth?” Abbi whispered.

“I don’t know, but I’m not gonna be the one to tell him. Your Lyft rating _cannot_ afford to take another hit, gwurl,” Ilana whispered back.

“Ugh, so true,” Abbi turned to look out the window at the empty streets passing by, until Ilana poked her. 

“So you brought some Mary Jane, right?” Ilana asked. 

“What? No! I assumed you would! You always have some in your...vag or whatever,” Abbi dropped her voice, but Tom didn’t seem to be listening.

“Oh my God, Ilana, do you not have _any_ weed? How the fuck are we supposed to get through a _two week quarantine_ without weed? And I don’t know where to find any in St. Louis! Do we even know anyone in St. Louis?!” 

“Ha, kidding! Who do you take me for? I have enough to keep us happily high in our little love nest until the end of the world. Speaking of, I think we’re here!” The car pulled to a stop in front of a small apartment building. 

“DON’T touch the doors! I’ll get them for you!” Tom raced to open the doors and get their suitcases on the curb. 

“Alright, alright FINE!” They took a step back and began taking off their scrubs. 

“Hey, don’t touch the scrubs without the gloves on,” he said, snatching them away from Abbi.

“Don’t talk to her that way. And you know what, dude? Learn the fucking _basics_ of hygiene before you go lecturing my best friend like she’s some kind of plague rat. Now if you don’t give Abbi here a 5 star rating, I’m going to spit on these scrubs and throw them at you. Do we understand each other?” Ilana hissed like a cat. 

“Fine. But only if you give me 5 stars too,” Tom grumbled.

“I mean, that’s a given, we’re not _evil_. Smell ya later,” Ilana turned away towards the building, where an envelope with Abbi’s name on it had been taped to the mailbox. 

“I hope you enjoy your stay, please do NOT call me with any questions. Assuming we all live through this, there will be an additional cleaning fee after you check out,” Abbi read from the host’s note.

“And she’s just left the key in there where anyone could have taken it. Jesus, overreacting much?” she continued. 

“But hey, two weeks straight with my best friend? Sounds like heaven to me,” Ilana said, grabbing her suitcase in one hand and Abbi’s ass in the other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Day Two**

“Umm...dare, “Abbi said, taking the joint from Ilana and taking a puff.

“Ooh, dare. Yas, queen. I dare you...to...hmm….damn, it’s _really_ hard to come up with dares when we can’t leave this apartment.”

“Yeah, it’s not like I’d be embarrassed by pretty much anything you’d dare me to do in front of _just_ you. And our entire friendship is just one long game of ‘truth’ in truth or dare, anyway,” Abbi agreed. 

“Good point, good point. I think I put a deck of cards in your go bag. We could play strip poker?” Iana suggested, tugging hopefully at the straps of her shirt. 

“Do you even know how to play poker?” 

“...Nope, I was mostly interested in the stripping part, and I can tell from your face that’s gonna be a no from you, dawg. That’s okay, I only strip with consent. Oh, we could play fuck, marry, kill!”

“Ooh, yes, dude! I don’t think I’ve played that since, like, middle school.”

“Pansexual fuck, marry, kill? No gender off-limits?”

“Of course, dude. Okay, okay, let me ask you first. Umm, okay, _Little Women_ cast: Saoirse Ronan, Florence Pugh, Timothee Chattle...Shala...the little cute one.” 

“Ugh, yes, that movie was ICONIC. Well, gotta marry ma gurl Saiorse. I feel like Flo would be KILLER in bed so I’d def tap that. And...sorry, Timmy, guess that means I gotta kill ya, babe.”

“All sound choices. I mean, I assume you’d also marry Greta Gerwig, though,” Abbi said. 

“Oh, in a HEARTBEAT. I’d be in a beautiful poly queer triad with her and Sersh, 100%. Okay, my turn to ask you. Oh, DUH, obvious. People who are old as fuck but can still get it. Meryl Streep, Bill Nighy, Helen Mirren,” Ilana took the joint back and blew smoke lazily towards the ceiling. 

“Ooooh, that’s a tough one. I mean obviously marry Meryl. And I LOVE Bill Nighy but I feel like Helen Mirren is a _super_ kinky dominatrix, so maybe fuck her and kill Bill.”

“Ha, Kill Bill! Like the movie? God, I’d _totally_ marry Uma Thurman. By the way, FUCK Tarantino, man,” Ilana flicked two middle fingers in Quentin Tarantino’s general direction. 

“Ugh, totally. But I mean, was anyone surprised?” 

“Oh, not _at all_. Ugh just thinking about it is pissing me off. Is it your turn?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Abbi said, looking around the apartment for inspiration and finding a tabloid Ilana must have bought at the airport. 

“Ha, okay, Harry Styles and two of his recent girlfriends: Taylor Swift and Adele.”

“Ab, you’re going way too easy on me. Obviously kill that greasy little manchild, fuck TaySwift all the way out of the closet, and marry my QUEEN Adele.”

“I forgot you think Taylor Swift is a lesbian,” Abbi giggled.

“Don’t you remember those Youtube videos I sent you? She’s _totally_ in love with Karlie Kloss but has had _a lot_ of not very convincing beards over the years. Oh, and in the lyrics to…” 

“Um, I don’t think I watched those. Or maybe I watched like five minutes of the first one?” Abbi shrugged. 

“You didn’t watch them? When I specifically sent them to you? What, did you have _better things_ to do?” 

“They were all, like, over three hours long. So, um, yeah, I did have better things to do?” Abbi shrugged. 

“Oh. Whatever, I guess. Wanna do another round?”

“Uh, sure. Hey, have you noticed that so far we’ve killed the men and fucked and married the women in every single one?”

“Oh my god, you’re totally right! I guess it’s not surprising. Women are _mwah_ ,” Ilana did a chef’s kiss. 

“It sort of takes the fun out of it.” 

“Yeahhhh, men will do that,” Ilana agreed. 

“I’m kind of getting tired, though. Maybe we could just snuggle and chat,” Abbi yawned and stretched.  
  
“Mm, yes please,” Ilana slung an arm over Abbi and kissed the top of her head. They lay quietly for several minutes until Ilana poked Abbi.

“Yo, dude, I just thought of the perfect dare. I dare you to let me watch you poop!”

“Ilana, no! Weren’t the pictures enough?”

“This is totally just escalating our friendship to that _next level of intimacy_ ,” Ilana pouted, batting her eyelashes hopefully.

“No, seriously, dude. All this canned, shelf-stable, shitty food is _terrible_ for my gut. It’s like a warzone in there.”

“What, like even more than usual? I’m not sure if you know this, Ab, but you _are_ actually Jewish?” 

“Ilana, I’m not even kidding. You wouldn’t want to see it even if I let you.” 

“I guess I’ll take your word for it,” Ilana shrugged, “Buuuut...that means you _are_ theoretically open to it?”

“Maybe one day. If we both make it through this and society still has toilets, or whatever,” Abbi conceded.

“But if society collapses and we need to survive in the post-apocalyptic wasteland, someone’s gonna need to guard you while you shit, Ab.”

“Okay, if the apocalypse happens, and we’re both alive, and I need someone to guard me while I shit, I promise it will be you,” Abbi chuckled.

“I’mma hold you to that,” Ilana smiled, snuggling closer to Abbi and closing her eyes. 

* * *

**Day Five**

“Oh my GOD, I didn’t know it was possible to be this bored,” Ilana moaned. 

“I know, dude. The only thing that makes this whole thing bearable is weed,” Abbi agreed, rolling yet another joint.

“And being in here with my ride or die, of course,” Ilana peppered Abbi’s arm with small kisses. 

“Uh, right,” Abbi inched a few inches away on the couch, “So should we binge some more Netflix?”

“Ugh, I’m so SICK of Netflix.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We’re totally overdue for a content switch. Back to Hulu?” Abbi agreed, reaching for the remote.

“No, I mean I seriously think my eyes might have third-degree screen burn,” Ilana blinked rapidly and prodded at her eye with her finger. 

“Ew, Ilana, can you not like, _touch_ your eyeball with your fingers? You know it creeps me out.” 

“Oh, sorry. I guess years of wearing contacts totally desensitized me,” Ilana shrugged.

“Well yeah, but also, like, with the virus and everything? You know, how we’re not supposed to be touching our faces? All your germs are now _literally_ in your _eyeballs_ and making their way to your brain, or whatever.” 

“Oh, Ab, it’s SO painfully obvious you never had to take anatomy in art school. Anyway, if coronavirus has somehow infiltrated this apartment, we both probably already have it. I’d honestly inject the virus into my eyeballs if it meant the end would come sooner and put me out of my _fucking_ misery.” 

“Yeah, at least _getting it_ would be kinda exciting, you know? So what d’you wanna do? We could eat?”

“Yeah, I’m kinda snacky,” Ilana shrugged, “Wait, what time even _is_ it?” 

“I have nooo idea. When’s the last time we even had the blinds open?”

“God, we’re probably _so_ Vitamin D deficient right now. Maybe that’s why I feel like my skin is fucking wilting. I should have thought to bring my happy lamp,” Ilana crawled over to the window and peered out. 

“It’s just sort of like...gray twilight out there,” she shrugged. 

“It’s…” Abbi peered at her phone, “6:30.” 

“AM or PM? Ugh, what does it matter? Let's just eat. It’s something to do.” They ate canned tuna and crackers in companionable silence for several minutes.

“Mmm, cuddle and then go to bed?” Ilana twisted her legs through Abbi’s.

“Ew, dude, you have fish breath,” Abbi pushed Ilana away and stood up, wringing her hands restlessly. 

“Hey, I’m feeling kind of like...touched out. Do you think it would be okay if I just went into the other room by myself for a while?” 

“Oh. Of course!” Ilana held her hands out in front of her and drew her legs to her chest, “Take as much time as you need, queen.” 

“Okay, thanks,” Abbi puffed out her cheeks and ran her hands through her hair, “I’ve just been feeling sort of overwhelmed and I don’t want to offend you, but like…” 

“ _No_ offense taken, gwurl. You do what you gotta do. I might like, do a face mask or something.” 

“Ooh, that sounds nice. Save one for me?”

“You got it, madam,” Ilana drew her fingers to her forehead in a mock salute. 

* * *

Abbi rested her back against the closed bedroom door and took several deep breaths. _Finally._ She went to one of her suitcases and began rooting around in one of the exterior pockets, pulling out a slip of paper. 

“TSA inspection notice? Oh my God…” Abbi reached further into the pocket and pulled out her trusty purple rabbit vibrator. 

“Jesus, don’t they have anything better to do, you know, given the _worldwide pandemic_ happening right now? Did those TSA pigs touch you, baby?” she ran her fingers over the familiar surface. TSA agents wore gloves, right? Was it even possible to get coronavirus through your vagina? 

“Uhhhh, it’s probably fine, right? Whatever, whatever, whatever,” she took off her sweats and underwear and began her usual routine. Mm. That felt good. It had been too fucking long. 

Her phone dinged. She ignored it. Then it dinged again. With one hand still on the vibrator, Abbi reached for her phone and saw two texts from Ilana. 

_Ilana: BITCH_

_Ilana: OMFG. U been holding out on me gurl!!!_

Abbi groaned and put the vibrator down. 

_Abbi: omfg stop._

_Ilana: when were u gonna tell me u brought one?? i’ve been trying to be discreet w mine bc I thought you didnt bring urs_

_Abbi: wait what? we haven’t been out of each others sight like the whole time we’ve been here. weve literally been shitting with the door open_

_Ilana: shh. just let it happen._

_Abbi: ilana have you been fucking masturbating right next to me? like when im asleep???_

_Ilana: what u dont know wont hurt bb_

_Ilana: I mean, I was being RESPECTFUL bc i thought u were a womyn deprived. we share most things but even I wouldnt share a vibrator even with my bff_

_Abbi: ok you know what? whatever. Can I vibe in peace pls?_

_Ilana: u got it babe_

Abbi put her phone on the bedside table and turned the vibrator back on. After a few seconds, it sounded louder than usual, and she turned it off. She could hear a different vibration coming through the wall. 

_Abbi: omfg I can hear u!_

_Ilana: wut, so ur allowed to but im not?_

_Abbi: ilana, srsly._

_Ilana: ok lets just each do our own thing. i promise ill be quiet_

_Abbi: u cant picture me when ur doing it._

_Ilana: but honestly im having trouble remembering what other ppl look like. plus dat ass…_

_Abbi: FINE. But if ur 2 loud thats it, its off_

_Ilana: thank youuuu. Xoxoxoxoxo_

* * *

_Ilana: omg that was magical. u sound exactly like how i imagined._

_Abbi: we can never talk about this again dude_

_Ilana: anything 4 u babe_

_Abbi: omg I feel SO much better_

_Ilana: i know, right?_

_Abbi: like i felt so fucking stircrazy and now I feel like i can get thru the next 9 days or whatever no problem_

_Ilana: u thought u were touched out but u really just needed to TOUCH YOSELF_

_Abbi: lol_

_Ilana: can we cuddle now?_

_Abbi: ofc._

_Ilana: u dont even have to put your panties back on_

_Abbi: omg ilana_

_Ilana: just saying. like why bother._

_Ilana: uve never done that with anyone else b4 right?_

_Abbi: omg no_

_Ilana: not even darcy?_

_Abbi: no dude_

_Ilana: ok me neither. i can die happy now <33333 _


	3. Chapter 3

**Day Nine**

“I don’t know, man, is it time to break out the Catan?” 

“Abbi, no. I _refuse_ to subject you to that shit again, not after Boring Ben.”

“He wasn’t _that_ bad. And anyway, we only have like Q’s and Y’s left. There’s not much we can do with that,” Abbi nudged a few Scrabble tiles around the table.

“Cunt...y?” Ilana suggested, adding a Y to the board.

“That _technically_ would be against the rules, since I’m pretty sure _cunty_ isn’t in the dictionary.”

“Ugh, who gives a shit about the rules?” Ilana stacked a Q, X, Z, and Y on top of each other and then toppled them. 

“Lots of people, actually. There are _super_ intense Scrabble tournaments, it’s actually pretty interesting. Most casual players are breaking _a ton_ of rules. Like the rules about foreign words and proper nouns…” Abbi continued in that way she had when she had warmed to some obscure topic. 

“Fine, maybe you’re right, that’s a wrap on dirty words Scrabble. Who the fuck only has Scrabble and Catan in their Airbnb? If what’shername lives through this, I’m going to tell her she needs to step up her board game...game.” 

“I mean, I think we did a pretty good job, considering,” Abbi said, stepping back to admire their handiwork. 

“Me too, kween. Hold on, don’t put it away, gotta put it on ma stories,” Ilana snapped a few photos with her phone. 

“So, what do you wanna do now? I know, I know, no Catan,” Abbi added quickly. 

“Eh. I’m sick of Netflix. And reading. And go fish. I guess we could teach ourselves poker? There’s probably like a zillion Youtube videos,” Ilana eyed Abbi hopefully. 

“I’m still not stripping!” 

“Okay, okay! Wanna just...smoke until we figure it out?” 

“Yeah, smoking’s the one thing we never get bored of, huh?” Abbi laughed and went into the bedroom where Ilana kept her stash.

“Hey, where’d you put the weed?” 

“Huh?” Ilana called from the other room. 

“Did you move the weed?” 

“What? It’s in my makeup bag like always.” 

“Dude, you’re kidding, right?” Abbi went to the doorway. 

“No? Wait, are _you_ shitting _me_?” 

Abbi held up the makeup bag, which still smelt pungently of weed. But it was empty.

“What? No. Nonononono. Did it spill on the floor or something?” They both ran to the bedroom and began searching under the bed, in the pillowcases, under the papers on the desk, and even in their own shoes. 

“Fuuuuck,” Ilana moaned, finally giving up and lying on the floor. 

“How did we smoke _that_ much weed in like, a week?” Abbi asked, “That was like, the most weed I’ve ever seen in my life. More than at a fucking Phish concert.” 

“We were smoking every time we were bored! Or hungry! Or anxious! Or needed to sleep! Which is like, all the fucking time when we’re cooped up in here thanks to the idiot in chief,” Ilana yanked at her hair in frustration. 

“Okay, okay, you have to have some more, right? You like, _always_ have weed. You probably have some tucked away somewhere and you’ve just forgotten. Like in that tampon pocket of your purse. Or, or, maybe you forgot some up...you know where?” Abbi asked hopefully.

“Abbi we’ve been here for over a week, I’m pretty sure I’d realize if I’d forgotten weed in my _fucking_ vagina.” 

“Oh, God. How many days do we have left?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, I’m panicking! Seven? Four? Ten? Too many! We can’t go that long without weed!”

“I mean, do we have much choice? What else can we do?” 

* * *

“We should have kept that nutso Uber driver’s scrubs, huh?” Ilana said.

“I mean, the masks and the gloves are the most important thing, right? Everything else is just a precaution,” Abbi patted the dishwashing gloves they had dug out from under the sink. 

“I mean, I’ve honestly just wanted to see you in a ball gown for _ages_ . I know poofy frilly Cinderella isn’t usually your style and I get it, we’re modern women who _long_ to be seen as more than princesses in the eyes of society. But just look at what that poof does for your tush!” Ilana stopped arranging the cling wrap and stepped back. She had arranged it into a flattering floor-length, long-sleeve ensemble with a poofy skirt.

“It does look pretty awesome, gotta admit,” Abbi said, slapping her own ass, “But this must feel weird for you. When’s the last time you were this covered up?” 

“Ugh, honestly I don’t know. Probably when my mom was still dressing El and I in matching outfits. I just wanna…” Ilana gestured as if she wanted to rip her own cellophane gown to reveal her midriff.

“I know, dude, but we have a mission. Okay, let’s go.” 

There was a gust of stale air as they opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, a different flavor of stale to the air in the apartment. The hallway was deserted. 

“God, I forgot how narrow this hallway was. No offense, but maybe you shouldn’t have put me in a Saran wrap couture dress,” Abbi said, turning sideways so she could shimmy towards the neighbors’ door.

“Hey, it’s so poofy that it basically _forces_ people to stay six feet away from you! Chic _and_ functional.”

“Okay, so we see who opens the door and see if they look 420 friendly? If not we just make some shit up?”

“Yep, sounds about right,” Ilana knocked on the door. No answer. No one answered at the next door either, or the next one. 

“Huh. Maybe people are scared to answer the door during the quarantine?” Abbi asked. 

“God, I thought people in the Midwest were supposed to be nicer. Isn’t that like the _one thing_ they have going for them?” Ilana said. 

“I dunno, dude. Maybe we should try another floor?” They went down a flight of stairs and passed through the lobby. 

“Hold on, there’s a sign on the door...Holy shit, dude. It says the building has been evacuated because someone who lives here tested positive for the virus!” 

“What the fuck? When?” 

“It doesn’t say. It could have been before we even got here, I guess.” They exchanged a glance. 

“Well, we’re already here…” Ilana began.

“It’s not like we have anywhere else to go,” Abbi reasoned. 

“Schweet! We don’t have to be quiet anymore, bitches!” Ilana screeched. 

* * *

**Day ??**

Ring. Riiiing. Riiiing. 

“H-hello?” 

“Hey, sweetie - oh my God, Ilana, where are your freakin clothes?! Where’s Abbi?” 

“Hiiii, Bobbi!” 

“Oh my God. Oh my God. ARTHUR, IT FINALLY HAPPENED. I’m so happy for you girls. You know, we’ve always wondered. I thought, I said to Daddy, do those girls think we’re goddamn homophobes or something? I mean, you KNOW how understanding we were when Eliot came out. It was a relief, to be honest.” 

“What? Oh, Bobbi, no, Ilana just finally convinced me to play strip poker and then it just sort of felt dumb to keep wearing clohes. Like what’s the point?”

“Congratulations, my gaybies! Oh, I love you both so much,” half of Arthur’s head bobbed in and out of frame, but he was obviously tearing up. 

“Okay, so we are not quote unquote _together romantically_ yet, but we’ve made progress! We’ve had strip poker, we’ve had casual nudity, we’ve been shitting with the door open, we’ve done some truly _life-changing_ mutual masturbation…” 

“Ilana, don’t tell them that! And it wasn’t like... _mutual_ mutual,” Abbi groaned.

“Right, sorry. It was like...one-sided mutual masturbation. Anyway, we’re getting there,” Ilana concluded. 

“Oh, that’s too bad, my girls,” Arthur said. 

“But we await the day! Anyway, when are you coming home?” Bobbi asked. 

“Huh?” 

“What...day is it, anyway?” Abbi asked, going to open the blinds and squinting in the bright light of day. 

“Holy shit! Have you two broads not been watching the news?” Bobbi screeched. 

“Nah, we’ve sort of gone a bit feral,” Ilana admitted, absentmindedly grabbed a jar of peanut butter and sticking her tongue straight in.

“Jesus, Ilana, that’s disgusting! Has this pandemic taught you nothing?” 

“At least we know they’ve been eating,” came Arthur’s voice from off-camera.

“Well, anyway, the Illuminati finally decided to release the vaccine, so the quarantine is ending early!”

“Ugh, I bet Jay and Bey totally had something to do with it,” Ilana kissed her fingertips and raised them towards the sky. 

“God bless ‘em,” Bobbi agreed, “Anyway, pack your shit and get your asses home!”

* * *

“It feels fucking _weird_ wearing clothes, right?” Ilana asked, shifting uncomfortably in her neon green pants and pink crop top.

“I know, right? And to be leaving this place. This is probably the only place we'll ever spend almost _two whole weeks_ indoors with no one but each other. It feels like I’m leaving New York all over again,” Abbi looked around the room, strewn with empty cans, blankets and pillows, and the remains of Scrabble and strip poker. 

“Bitch, don’t do that to me,” Ilana turned away and wiped her eyes. 

“Hey, it’s okay, dude. I mean, aren’t we so lucky we got to do this? We had our _Meet Me in St. Louis_ moment and it wasn’t even really the apocalypse,” Abbi said, wrapping Ilana in a hug. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know what they say,” Ilana sighed, squeezing Abbi tightly, “Tis better to have mutually masturbated and lost than to never have mutually masturbated at all.” 

“I...don’t think that’s how it goes.”

“Just let me have this,” Ilana whispered. 

“Okay, okay. Hey, do you still wanna go see the arch? We could pretend it really was the apocalypse,” Abbi asked, nudging Ilana between the ribs. 

“Pay for an extra Uber just to see some dumbass arch? I _knew_ you weren’t really Jewish! Nah, I have a better idea,” Ilana reached into her go bag, found a Sharpie, and began writing on the underside of the windowsill. Abbi craned her neck to see, squeezing Ilana’s hand. 

ABBI + ILANA

TIL THE END

(OF THE WORLD) 


End file.
